Draconic Introspection
by CrystallicSky
Summary: Its a complete pain when your inner-dragon wants to give you romantic advice in the middle of the night, especially when what its saying actually makes sense. CHACK, TWOSHOT
1. Chapter 1

**Draconic Introspection  
**

**By: CrystallicSky**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Xiaolin Showdown, or any of the characters in it.**

**Warning(s): Implication of malexmale relationships, AKA homosexual; if you have a problem with that, that's your business. Please don't make it mine. Also, one use of the word that starts in 'f' and ends in 'uck' and isn't 'firetruck'.  
**

**Notes: This is what happens when I get bored during the summer: I write fanfiction to get some form of attention. It probably doesn't help that I'm rather sick at the moment as well, meaning that it took a bit longer than it should have and might not be up to snuff and/or the level it should be, but I'm not gonna rewrite it, and I want feedback, so if you're actually reading this, please, move on to the actual story! :D**

Today had lasted _far _too long for Chase's liking, and he was looking forward to not only a good night's sleep, but even the rare treat of sleeping in a few extra hours as well, something he normally didn't allow himself. There _were_ exceptions to his personal rule of waking early, and this was one of them.

Laying down against the soft bedding and pulling a rather cozy quilt over himself, the everlord was highly grateful to let go of all the day's tensions, preparing for a well-deserved, _long_ rest...

_"You are a fool."_

Dread pooled in his stomach, and Chase uselessly put a pillow over his head, moaning, "Oh, not tonight..."

_"Yes, tonight,"_ the voice so similar to his own growled in his mind, _"and **every** night until you actually **listen** to me."_

"For the love of all that's unholy, can I not simply sleep?" the man pleaded a bit desperately.

_"No," _his dragon denied, _"because if you had not ignored me from the beginning, you wouldn't need a quilt to keep you warm, and you would have a beautiful, young body beside you."_

Chase scoffed in derision. "He is _not_ beautiful."

_"Of **course** he is; he is the most gorgeous boy you've ever laid eyes on, and you **know** it!"_

"Hmph, and how is _that_? He's so _scrawny-_"

_"His frame is **slender**, as it must be to fit so perfectly up against ours as it does."_

"His skin is too white," the man protested, "how could anyone find such pasty skin attractive?"

_"He cannot help his pale complexion," _his dragon growled at him, _"and we both know it simply **adds** to his beauty. It gives him the appearance of living porcelain."_

Chase couldn't help his snort; now the beast was waxing poetic! "So, tell me, then, what of his eyes? Do you have something romantic to say about them? Or perhaps that radioactive-looking hair of his?"

_"As a matter of fact, I do." _the reptile assured from within his mind. _"His eyes are like rubies and his hair like a sunset. What do you have to say to that?" _The smugness in the tone was palpable.

"I say," the warlord huffed, "that Spicer is an annoying imbecile, and nothing you say can persuade me otherwise."

_"Ha,"_ the disembodied voice laughed, _"again you prove me right when I say you are a fool. I **am** you, in a sense, and I know that what you need is not persuasion, as you already share my views on Spicer. No, what you need is a wake-up call."_

"What I _need_ is to sleep; can you not let me do that, or do you insist we continue this infantile quarrel until sunrise?"

_"Oh, very well. I'll leave you be for the night if you just admit you're a coward."_

Chase tensed. "What. Did. You. Say?"

_"You. Are. A. Coward." _the dragon mocked, _"Admit that, and I'll let you sleep."_

"I most certainly am _not_ a coward," the warlord growled to the reptilian facet of his personality, "how _dare_ you accuse me of this?"

_"Oh, perhaps for the simple fact that its true?" _the beast returned, _"You're afraid."_

"I fear nothing," Chase snarled indignantly, "_especially_ not Jack Spicer!"

_"No," _he was corrected, _"not afraid of **him**; you fear falling in love."_

"Love?" the man scoffed, "I don't _need_ love."

The dragon chuckled in his host's head. _"Nobody loves no one. I know how much you like to think yourself a god, **more** than human, and in many respects, that is true, but you must accept that even **you** need love."_

"I need no one, and even if I did, it wouldn't be a worm like _Spicer!_"

_"Oh, please," _the reptile scoffed, _"you're speaking out of hurt! Why don't you come down off that cross, use the wood to build a bridge and **get over it?**"_

"_Don't _drag her into this, you-"

_"Now, you see? The fact that I don't even have to mention her name is enough proof: you're still in pain from what she did to you."_

"I do not love Wuya any longer. God knows why I did in the first place, but any affection I held for her is _long_ gone." Chase snarled defiantly.

_"Oh, **that** I believe, but that doesn't mean that everything she **was** to you just disappeared overnight, no matter how badly you wish it would've. She was your first love; you can't just forget that. All of her betrayals have hurt you, yes, but now she's got you too **terrified** to try to love again, even when a beautiful, brilliant, **perfect **boy is practically throwing himself at your feet!"_

The everlord was silent for a moment. "He can't love me," he said at long last, "he is too young. He can't _possibly_ know what love is."

_"Are we speaking of the same person?" _the dragon questioned, _"Because I am thinking of the nineteen-year-old whose breath hitches at the sight of you, whose heart flutters like a mouse's in your presence, whose eyes practically **glow** with devotion at the mere mention of your name: **that** Jack Spicer."_

"...He was mentored by Wuya and has no sense of loyalty," Chase protested, "he will only betray me just as she has time and again because that is how she taught him through example."

_"While he may not know loyalty, answer me this: has he ever expressed anything but his utmost adoration of you?"_

"No..." came the reluctant answer.

_"He hangs on to every word you say and worships the ground you walk on; you could be his new mentor (with benefits of course) and **teach** him how to be loyal, could you not?"_

"I could..." the man admitted, a slight tone of realization slipping into his tone.

_"Very good. So, let us see: we have you, a man who seems to have just realized how severely affection-starved he's become, and a teenager deeply in love with this man and perfectly willing to overlook all of his previous behavior for nothing more than a scrap of his attention like the__ naïve_ _young pup he is." _Then, as if speaking to a very young, not-so-bright child, he asked his host, _"What do we do?"_

Chase stared at the ceiling for a moment before rolling over on his side, getting comfortable amongst his blankets as he declared, "Tomorrow; it will do no good to fall asleep before being able to fuck him as hard he deserves."

_" 'attaboy..."_ his dragon purred in contented anticipation before retreating into the recesses of the warlord's mind, pleased with the idea of finally being able to claim his _long_ desired mate.

Really, what was one more night for a prize like Jack Spicer?

**A/N: Nothing to say; if its not as good as the rest of the stuff I do, that might be because I wrote it with random muscle aches, a sore throat, a stuffy nose, and a headache, so...you know, might not be up to my usual standards. Be gentle to me, but by all means, be honest. Criticism helps me to improve if its needed.**

**But anyways, I hope you liked it, and thank you for taking the time to read my story! :)**


	2. Inverse and Epilogue

** Draconic Introspection**

**By: CrystallicSky**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Xiaolin Showdown, or any of the characters in it.**

**Warning(s): Implication of malexmale relationships, AKA homosexual; if you have a problem with that, that's your business. Please don't make it mine. Mild cursing and using God's name in vain.**

**Notes: ****This is what happens when I get bored during the summer: I write fanfiction to get some form of attention. It probably doesn't help that I'm rather sick at the moment as well, meaning that it took a bit longer than it should have and might not be up to snuff and/or the level it should be, but I'm not gonna rewrite it, and I want feedback, so if you're actually reading this, please, move on to the actual story! :D**

Jack was having trouble sleeping.

Oh, he wanted to very much; it was one of his favorite past times as a matter of fact, right up there with ranting and tinkering around with his bots.

But the issue was that no matter what, he simply _could not sleep_, no matter what he tried.

Usually, a couple of pudding cups, a glass of warm milk, and mind-numbing, late-night television easily did the trick, but nope, tonight it did nothing for him, and at about two or three in the morning, the TV was off and he stared blankly at the ceiling from the living room couch.

Stupid mom for banging the pool guy in his room...

At the unwanted mental image this called forth, the goth shuddered in disgust; he'd have to have that bed vaporized.

Ah, well, he'd always wanted a bunk-bed. That way, he could say, 'Aw, I'm not gonna sleep in _that_ bunk; _I'm_ gonna sleep in the _good_ bunk,'

The thing that really sucked, however, was that Jack knew _exactly_ what was keeping him up, but he _really_ didn't want to acknowledge it, because then that'd mean he'd have to fight his own common sense (which had happened more than he'd like to admit as a sane young man) tooth and nail to keep thinking the way he wanted to.

Admittedly, he lived in a bit of his own little world, but he really sort of _had_ to in order to keep from becoming a simpering puddle of depression.

Jack Spicer refused to give up his pride, God damn it, and if keeping it took all kinds of delusions of grandeur and fantasies galore, then so be it. He refused to become the stereotypical 'slits-his-wrists' emo-kid everyone seemed intent on making him.

I mean, really, his parents had all but abandoned him, the monks constantly delighted in reminding him how prone to failure he was, Wuya had made it clear that he was no more than a tool, a means to an end to be promptly discarded when its usefulness ran out, and Chase-…oh, crap…

_"Ooh, that's a good topic,"_ his common sense chimed in, _"let's talk about **that**!"_

"How 'bout we don't and say we did?" the goth whined pleadingly.

_"Oh, no, no, no, no, you are **not** getting out of it that easy; we are gonna talk about this for once."_

"Pfft," he scoffed, "yeah, talking to myself about my own love-life; no, _that's_ not at all crazy."

_"Hm, 'love-life', 'crazy', those are both good words! Let **me** try to use 'em in a sentence: you're **crazy** if you think you have a **love-life**, much less one that involves Chase Young in any way!"_

"Oh, shut up, you," Jack snarled, "he loves me! He just…doesn't know it yet…"

_"You **cannot** believe that,"_ the voice scoffed with a chuckle, _"he **hates** you! You're a genius; how can you not realize how little he feels for you? If it were a number, it would be, like, negative katrillion!"_

"…but that's not a real number-"

_"Exactly! Really, I just gotta know: what makes you think you have a chance in Hell with him?"_

Quickly accessing the databanks of his slightly-warped reality, he answered, "W-well…he calls me by pet-names…"

_"Mmhm, I hardly think 'worm' and 'insect' are expressions of affection."_

"Um…h-he always lets me into his place!"

_"Oh, of course,"_ his common sense drawled, _"but only after the oh-so-tender greeting of a door to the face. You gotta be careful with that face of yours, by the way: its your money-maker, even if it's the least likely in the **world** to be making any money."_

"Why do you say things you know will hurt me?" Jack queried dejectedly.

_"Okay, okay, I've just got one more question for you, Jackie, m'boy: what've you got to say in his defense for that T-Rex incident? "_

At a complete loss on how to put a positive spin on the event, the goth pathetically tried, "Tough love?"

_"Oh, for God's sakes, you delusional idiot!"_ the voice growled, _"Wake up and smell the Guatemalan blend! Chase Young hates you, **hates** you! H-a-t-e, hate! Why can't you understand that?! There is no chance of him waking up one morning and going, 'Golly gee, what **was** I thinking?' and sweeping you romantically off your feet, so stop waiting for it, dammit!"_

"I don't want to stop waiting," the albino whimpered softly, holding back tears now, " 'cause if I do, it'll be like admitting to myself that I'm a complete failure at everything I do and to everyone I know. I…I can't give up; waiting for that is pretty much all I've got to hope for at this point…"

The voice realized it'd gone too far, and its tone became gentler and more consoling. _"Jack, no…there…there's more to life than what you're making it. Maybe you should try to be…well, normal?"_

"Normal?"

_"Yeah, like maybe getting away from all this Shen Gong Wu crap and giving life in the **real** world a try."_

"How the hell would I do that?" the goth questioned, tone still subdued, "I don't know the first thing about being normal."

_"Its really not that hard; look, why don't we do this? You could go back to school and finish that before tackling college; I mean, with your brain, it shouldn't take more than a couple of months. Then, your family's got connections, so you could probably break into a military engineering career, like your dad always wanted. You could still work on machines that cause mayhem, but people'd be okay with it, and they'd actually pay you for it, right?"_

"Yeah, I guess…"

_"And hey, as for your love-life, there's always that Asian guy your dad works with, you know, the one that could conceivably pass as Chase's half-brother or something. He's **always** giving you the eye and flirting with you when he's around, so he'd probably jump at the chance to be with you, and your parents would totally approve."_

"But…he's almost fifty, isn't he? He's old enough to be my father."

_"So what? The real Chase is old enough to be your great-to-the-tenth-power **grand**father! C'mon, you've always sorta wondered what it'd be like to live an average, ordinary life, ever since a week after meeting Wuya."_

"…it feels a lot like I'm settling." Jack replied sadly, absently fingering the hem of the dark blue sheet over him.

_"Well,"_ his common sense admitted, _"that's what people have to do when their expectations are too high: settle for what they can get."_

The goth was quiet for a long moment before somberly surrendering, "Okay. I'll settle. Tomorrow, I give all the Wu I've got back to the monks, dismantle all my bots, pull some strings to get back into high school and…" he swallowed hard, as if trying not to choke on his next words, "I'll forget about Chase."

At the conclusion of the issue, Jack finally felt sleep clouding his mind, and he began to drift off.

_"This really **is** for the best, Jack,"_ the voice attempted to make him feel less upset about his decision, _"its better that you take a sensible, reasonable chance to be happy instead of wasting your life waiting for the impossible and ending up miserable."_

If that's true, the albino wondered as he fell asleep, then why does it feel like I'm condemning myself?

VVVV

Jack had always been slow to wake up when it was to his own circadian rhythm and not an alarm clock, and so for perhaps ten or twenty minutes of hazy, partial awakeness, he simply lay where he was, enjoying the warmth of the sunlight on his body and nuzzling into his pillow ever so slightly, infinitely content that this moment should last forever.

And of course, he then _had_ to recall the promise he'd made to himself the night before, and a soft moan escaped his throat; talk was talk, but actually going through with it...

"Finally awake, are we?"

It took a second to realize that the voice wasn't in his head and then another second to register the voice was familiar and that his 'pillow' seemed decidedly less stuffed with down than it should have been, and his reflexes acted quickly and sent him clear over to the other end of the couch, squealing, "Chase?! What're _you_ doing here?"

The man smirked at him from his side of the couch, arm draped over the back of it as he disapprovingly clucked his tongue. "Now, that's no way to greet your 'idol', Spicer…"

Somewhat disturbed by Fact A, Chase was not wearing his usual armor but instead fairly casual-looking clothing, Fact B, had invaded his home, and Fact C, had purposefully allowed the goth to sleep in his lap, Jack decided to forgo all manners and warily demand, "What do you want?"

The warlord did not reply to this, instead subjecting the albino to a deeply considering stare, which, of course, had the youth's heart all aflutter, but he really didn't want to think about his hopelessly one-sided crush; it was already gonna be torture trying to leave Chase behind when he could still effortlessly exert so much power over him with nothing but a look.

"You must truly be a genius," he complimented seriously enough to make every brain-cell in Jack's head stop what they were doing and listen, "that can be the only possible way that no one but you saw this coming."

"S-saw what coming?" the teen wondered aloud, utterly flabbergasted.

The look on the man's face was sexy enough to make the fanboy in Jack melt into a puddle as he smirked, answering simply, "This…"

In the space of a second, it seemed, Chase was across the couch, one big hand on the side of the goth's jaw as he forced their lips to meet in a kiss.

Needless to say, Jack was stunned. There was no way this was happening; Chase kissing him? Impossible, unfathomable, inconceivable-

When a powerful arm snaked around his waist and yanked his torso closer to the man's well-built body, the albino snapped back to reality and quickly realized something: this could be his one and only shot at this, and if he didn't take it, he'd probably never get the chance again.

Nearly instantly, his fingers tangled in long, dark hair, kissing back fiercely as he deeply hoped this wasn't some sort of Heylin prank.

This hope was rewarded as Chase's mouth left his and he was gifted with words he'd _desperately_ desired to hear. "I apologize that it took so long, Spicer, but I've been stubborn. I didn't _want_ to want you, but gods be damned, I don't care anymore. I _do_ want you… Can you forgive me for forcing you to wait so long?"

Naturally, he wanted to believe this at face-value, but Jack nonetheless thoroughly searched the man's gorgeous golds for some teensy hint of deceit, one shred of a lie…and saw only honesty. "Don't be stupid," he managed to choke out, half-chuckling as he did so, "of _course_ I can forgive you! Just…kiss me so I know this isn't a dream or something stupid like that…" Tears had begun to make their way down pale white cheeks, but the goth wore an ecstatic smile; this _was_ nothing short of his dream come true!

Chase was more than happy to oblige this demand and claimed the teen's lips once more, feeling a warmth well up in his chest as the albino actively responded, a warmth he'd thought _long_ dead.

Oh, was this feeling of completeness what he'd denied the poor boy all these years? Well, that would not do; he'd make it up to him for being so cruel and stubborn somehow.

Jack really could've cared less as to anything going on around him at the moment (a little busy with the unthinkably surprising reciprocation of his long-time crush), but at a slight twinge in his subconscious, he managed to split his attention in two, half on the man he loved and half within himself.

**"What was all that about Chase never waking up one morning and going, 'Golly gee, what _was_ I thinking?' again?"**

_"Shut up,"_ his common sense growled at him, now without any words of becoming 'normal', _"use more tongue."_

And for once, the two were in complete agreement.

Fuck settling, Jack Spicer aimed high and stayed persistent, and seeing as it'd apparently won _the_ Chase Young over, he _must_ have been doing _something_ right...

**A/N: Basically, the same idea as the original, but with Jack's thoughts, and of course the epilogue.**

**Other than that, nothing to say about this; I'm tired, still sick, and my hand hurts from writing/typing, so I'm going to go away, now. -.-**


End file.
